


Mothers and Sons and Boyfriends, Oh My!

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people hide, some people accept, but the difficult moments define.<br/>Takes place during Ep.202</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mothers and Sons and Boyfriends, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in my LJ in 2009

**                                                             “Are you willing to be destroyed by the one whom you love...for his sake?”  ** A.Dworkin

  
What was it about the Taylor family? The only one who hadn’t gotten in my face yet was the sister. What was her name? Molly. Yeah, that was it. Well, give her time to grow up, and she can join the rest of them in making my life a living hell.  
  
From the moment I saw him leaning against the lamppost, the twat never left me alone. I tried to get rid of him, but he never got the message, or maybe he did and chose to ignore it. It would be so like him. He could be a persistent and devious little shit when he really wanted something. In that particular case, the something was me _._  
  
I used to joke and call him my stalker. No matter where I went, the little lamb was sure to go—Woody’s, Babylon, even the loft. Mikey once said he found it creepy, like one of those teenage psycho movies. I thought it was kind of cute in a way, my own private fan club of one. Only instead of an autograph and a picture, he got a rim job and a fuck. _I_ know how to deal with an adoring public. By the way, I didn’t include Michael on purpose because he’s the president and founder of the club and unfortunately for him, there are no benefits with the job.  
  
Then there was Justin's homophobic prick of a father who tried to fucking kill me twice. I’m surprised he didn’t try again. I mean, isn’t the third time supposed to be the charm? He really screwed that one up if he was so hell bent on getting rid of me.  
  
Last but certainly not least, there was the formidable Mother Taylor. She was the tough one because she really cared. That made it difficult to play hardball with her and even more difficult not to when she told me to fuck off and not see her son anymore.   
  
                                                                                                             * * *  
  
Daphne, Justin, and I had been sitting on the steps while he exercised his hand with the therapy ball. His coordination had really improved. He still had a long way to go, but least he was here. No consolation for him, but a huge one for me.  
  
After sending the two of them into the house like a pair of thirteen year olds, his mother pops me one out of the blue and says in an even voice, “I think it’s best for Justin to stay at home, his real home. My primary concern is getting him healthy, physically and emotionally. Not to be rude, but he can’t do that if he stays with you. That type of arrangement isn’t what he needs now. It won’t help him get better and could very well make him worse.”  
  
I had to give her props for restraint and being all Emily Post about it. I interrupted her just as evenly, although my blood was reaching the boiling point. “Mrs. Taylor, excuse me. I know you’re his mother and you only want what’s best for him but _not to be rude,_ it’s not up to you to decide. My relationship with your son is between Justin and myself.” Fuck, I couldn’t believe I just used that word. “It’s entirely consensual and entirely our business _._ Furthermore—”  
  
Her eyes bore holes into me, and I could swear her tone lowered the temperature around twenty degrees. “Furthermore? There _is_ no furthermore, Mr. Kinney. Justin needs a chance to reclaim his life and heal. His place is at home and at school, where he can reconnect with friends his own age. Your place is in the business world.”  
  
“Mrs. Taylor, I—”  
  
She held up her hand and went for the jugular. “Please let me finish. I want to make sure you understand. I don’t love or respect Justin any less because he's gay. He’s my son and always will be. But at the risk of rehashing the ugly past, your actions with him were completely out of line. Not only because of sex but because of age.”  
  
Then she struck the final blow. “He almost died when he was with you and I will not let that happen again!”  
  
Now I had to show restraint. She was pissing me off. Yeah, he was her son and she was upset and she loved him, but I couldn't stand there like a verbal punching bag. I spent too many years being a physical one. “Look, Mrs. Taylor—”  
  
“I’m not done, Mr. Kinney,” she warned.  
  
“Actually? Yeah, you are.” Maybe I overstepped my bounds but cut me a little slack, lady. You weren’t fucking there. You didn't see his battered head matted with a sticky liquid that turned blond into a sickly shade of orange, or hold his unmoving body as his life drained onto the concrete floor in inkblots of crimson.  
  
I gave him what he wanted and as usual, Brian Kinney doesn't half-ass anything, no pun intended. Nope, I had to make a fucking spectacle of us at his prom. If I hadn't been there, he'd be able to draw like before, he'd be able to remember, and he wouldn't have almost fucking died.  
  
There's nothing I can do now to change the past. Just like there was nothing I could have done then that would have changed the future. The only decision that would have changed everything would have been to ignore my pathetic inner lesbian, find a fucking party somewhere and fucking party. In other words, business as usual. The one fucking choice I made turned out to be the wrong one and almost cost Justin his life. He’ll never be the same. Neither will I. In my opinion, that’s too high a price to pay for caring.  
  
I was so caught up in the past, she blindsided me with her next zinger. “Do you have any comprehension at all what you’ve done because you wanted a piece of my son’s ass?”  
  
Christ! The gloves were really off. “I do know it’s for Justin and me to decide.”  
  
“Really?” Revealing the steel that lurked behind the cultured facade, her sarcasm spewed like acid. “And where exactly do you think your mutual decision is going to lead? Are you going to give up your nightly visits to Babylon? Give up the thrill of faceless and nameless sex? Trade in your so-called reputation for monogamy?”  
  
“I don’t think—”  
  
Her tigress claws showed themselves with a vengeance. “I asked you a question, Mr. Kinney. Where exactly is this mutual decision going to lead? Are you prepared to give up your lifestyle for him? And if you do, how long will it last? How long before my son becomes yesterday’s fuck? How long before fucking the same man day after day chokes and suffocates you? How long before you wind up blaming him for _you_?” __  
  
Something inside snapped at the accusation. I gritted my teeth and held myself still. If I didn’t— Then I said the only words I could find, the only words I could say with any truth. “I care for Justin, Mrs. Taylor, a lot.”  
  
Some of the tension that had fueled her earlier outburst seemed to dissolve, and her shoulders relaxed a little. “I’m not an ogress, Brian. May I call you Brian?”  
  
What was I going to say? No? I gave a non-committal shrug.  
  
Her attitude turned less confrontational. “All I want is what’s best for Justin. He mentioned you have a son?”  
  
“Yeah, Gus. He was born the night I met Justin.” A stupid shit-eating grin had threatened to escape. “Justin named him.” Fuck! I couldn’t believe I blurted that out.  
  
She gave me a mysterious look, questioning and knowing at the same time. The twat had probably told her. “Well, you’ll find out soon enough that doing what’s best for children isn’t always easy. But you do what you have to do. Difficult moments like this hurt everyone. Please believe me, it doesn’t make me happy asking you not to see him because I know it will cause him more pain.”  
  
What about _my_ pain?  
  
“I’m not dismissing your feelings for Justin, nor am I trivializing his for you. I know you were at the hospital every night, and I truly thank you for being there, but if you care about him as deeply as you say, you’ll honor my wishes. We all have to face up to our responsibilities. I accepted that a long time ago and maybe now, it’s time for you to do the same. Goodbye, Brian.”  
  
And with that, the proverbial door slammed not only in my face but on my future. I did what I was told. I fucked off and out of his life. When he pounded on the loft door, sweaty and out of breath because he had the courage to push through his panic to see me, I basically told him to fuck off also. Who says I don’t have the role of self-serving bastard down to perfection?  

                                                                               

 _“Tonight I gave the greatest performance of my life_  
_I never lost control. I played the part so well._  
_That not a single soul could tell I was lying_  
_But if you had been behind the curtain when it fell,_  
_You would have seen this actor crying.”_ ©Sanchez/Anderle

 


End file.
